


The Start of Something New

by ohsnapCiera



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Canon Divergent, timeloop if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 12:36:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8980006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohsnapCiera/pseuds/ohsnapCiera
Summary: Just as the Survery Corps provide a second chance for what remains of humanity, it represents the realization of true hope for Jean. It's no longer time for fear, but the beginning of a grand adventure; a second chance at something good.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kaa05n2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaa05n2/gifts).



The heat is suffocating, unbearable. All his lungs are heaving in is air thick with ashes. His mouth opens but he chokes on the name he knows he wants to call; has to find them, can't leave without them. He stops for a moment, looks up; an impossibly long stretch of fingers reaching for him, then-

Jean bolts upright, lungs burning as he gasps clean air, one hand clutching his heart. The feeling of it- pounding, real, alive- grounds him, reminds Jean that this is reality. Not those monstrous tangles of mangled bodies in the street, the wide, obscene stretch of a giant's grin. He knows those images well, not just from his dreams, but from his lessons in school.

Over one hundred years ago, humanity triumphed over the titans, allowing themselves to move on and push forward. Finding no one outside the walls that once kept them penned so, as one, they looked to their new future. The main vehicle of that change: the Survey Corps.

Unlike the other branches, soldiers who join the ranks of the Survey Corps now focus less on policing and battle readiness, instead putting their efforts into exploration of the world beyond their once small perimeters. They are the ones in charge of gathering information for more detailed maps, scouting sites for new cities, bringing back supplies to further rebuilding. When they return from a mission, the streets are crowded with people hoping to catch a glimpse of humanity's greatest.

Jean pulls the laces of his boots tight, knotting and tucking them before standing to inspect the basics of his uniform. Not a stitch out of place, barely a wrinkle to be found.

He is drawn to the top of the stairs by soft conversation floating from the kitchen, the familiar sounds of scraping forks and clinking glasses. Two voices he knows as well as he knows his own.

"Bodt," Jean calls, leaning casually over the banister, "right on time."

He stomps down the stairs as his mother pours water into the glass that had been waiting for him, plate already occupied by a fresh omelette. The other boy at the table- Marco Bodt, lifelong friend- offers his usually cheery smile as a return greeting.

"It's the big day," and as excited as he sounds Jean knows him well enough to notice he's using his _piss the bed scared_  voice, trying to will away the nerves; force it all down with that trademark Bodt joy. Because as much as they've talked and planned and trained, today was indeed the day- time to finally go above and beyond. Time to finally see.

"Cold feet?"

There's no sting in his retort, just the comfortable back and forth only solid trust and years of friendship can forge.

The rest of their meal is eaten in relative quiet, Jean's mom humming as she busies herself in the kitchen. Before they know it, it's time to go and Mrs. Kirstein only sheds a few proud tears as she hugs both the boys and sends them on their way.

\--------------  
The ceremony is a blur. Their commander practically breathes fire, imploring them to do their best, give their all for humanity. After weeks of training together, their group, fueled by the camaraderie of their shared purpose, shout and salute- a few are even moved to tears.

It's later, around a fire pit at the barracks, that the gravity of what they've accepted settled on them; heavy like the mountain liquor one of the girls snuck in (along with a length of sausage and a loaf of bread). They pass the jug as they share stories told to them about how life used to be outside the walls, laughing like they were no more than bedtime stories.

Jean notices Marco's silence but doesn't pry. He gets on well enough when the conversation eventually shifts, lighting up again, one finger rubbing over his upper lip. They talk about family. One of the boys- Armin, blond and quiet but sharp looking- asks about siblings ("four sisters", Marco replies). The only real upset happens when Armin's friend, Eren, calls Jean a "momma' boy" offhand and the two end up taking cheap shots at each other until they all decide to douse the fire and head to bed.

In the peaceful dark of their bunks, amidst the snoring of the other cadets,Marco offers Jean a sleepy smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes and Jean is surprised that- for once- things just feel right.

He doesn't dream.

\---------

The day of their first scout is rainy and warm, humidity doing little to dampen their excitement. Mountain Girl- Sasha, according to Marco's gentle corrections- has once again smuggled out more food than required (this time it appears to be half a ham and a skin of what might be ale). Her shadow, Connie Springer, rides at a trot alongside her and they fumble bites of food between them. Armin rides closer to point, with their commander, the map marked with their course secure in his saddlebag.

Eren isn't far behind, Mikasa at his flank, a barrier between him and Jean in case tensions flare again- there's no real malice behind their taunts but /there's no time for that in the field, Eren; focus/. She and Marco get on well, talking softly about the wildflowers that grow in the fields along their path.

"They're my oldest sister's favorite," Marco smiles, gesturing to a cluster of simple purple flowers a little ways out. "If I remember, maybe I'll grab a few on the way back to send to her."

Mikasa smiles in return, hums and nods her agreement. Looking between the two, Jean feels himself blush though he's not sure at what (or at / _who_ /).

Their destination is a full day's ride out; by mid afternoon the rain has let up and the air clears enough for them to breathe a little easier. The sky is still overcast, threatening heavier rain before the day is over. The group stops for a rest and to check the maps but something about the atmosphere has Jean feeling restless, like something is buzzing just under his skin, vying for attention. He can't even settle down enough to eat with the others.

He tugs on the sleeve of Marco's jacket, hoping to draw his attention.

"I can't sit anymore," he gripes, "let's look around."

Marco looks between Jean and the rest of their group before standing and dusting off the seat of his pants.

There's a forest to the east of where they've settled, deep and dark; every bit the forest of their childhood bedtime stories, waiting patiently to swallow them up and never let them go. Jean shudders, somehow reminded of the gaping mouths and reaching hands from his dreams.

"Maybe we'll find some useful supplies," a sideways glance to Jean, "or at the very least a berry bush. It could be our secret."

Jean splutters, certainly not distracted by the thought of berry-stained lips.

Marco is a dozen paces into the forest before Jean realizes he needs to catch up. He jogs until he's able to fall into step next to the other boy. They go along in comfortable silence, the squelch of wet leaves beneath their boots and distant birdsong a pleasant complement to their journey. The air is still heavy and earthy from the earlier rainfall; Jean's unease refuses to settle even though everything seems peaceful.

Something about being in this forest- surrounded by trees so tall that their tops block out the sunlight- feels familiar, unsettling.

"Big ass trees," Jean mutters, absently kicking an exposed root as he walks by.

He's lost track of just how long they've been walking but when he glances back over his shoulder he can no longer see the other cadets or where they tied up the horses.

"You don't think we're lost d- Oof!"

Jean is cut short as he runs into Marco who has stopped dead in his tracks.

"Hey, Marco, what," he trails off, taking in Marco's slack-jawed expression and follows his gaze to a huge chunk of rock. A mountain in the middle of a forest? It's crumbling, countless years of being exposed to the elements wearing it away in places, huge fallen chunks settled at its base.

Marco is the first to take a step closer, gingerly running his fingers along vines that have climbed their way up the rock's surface. As Jean joins him, follows the path of the other boy's fingers with his eyes, he can't help but think the vibes are like fingers themselves- trying to drag this chunk of rock down, away from prying eyes; he notices the crevices don't much resemble naturally occurring notches in a mountain face. Instead, it looks more like-

"A wall?"

They look at each other.

"I know this place," Marco's voice is hushed, brow knit as he works through how he could possibly be so familiar with a place he's never been or heard of.

This time, the fingers that reach out for Jean are warm and familiar, comforting as their palms press together. The rain begins to fall again in earnest, soaking them to the bone as they stand together and stare in awe at this relic of their past, something they know more intimately than they'd realized.

Jean has never thought himself poetic, but the whole situation feels right- here with Marco, the person he trusts most, being cleansed by the rain in the presence of something that respresents so much to so many.

If this is their second chance, he vows not to waste it


End file.
